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The first time is by accident; the second time they all end up in bed together it's totally on purpose.
Sam's never met anyone who exuded sensuality and sex quite like Nathaniel does. Dean comes the closest of anyone he knows, but against Nathaniel, even Dean can't quite compete. Good thing it's not really a competition, he thinks, a little ruefully.
It isn't, because no matter how sexy Nathaniel is, this isn't a permanent thing. Nathaniel's heart belongs elsewhere, and Sam and Dean...well. Their hearts belong to each other, and *they* belong elsewhere. Even if there was a chance to have Nathaniel forever, Sam doesn't think either he or Dean could handle living in a world where vampires and weres -- even one as nice, as sexy, as Nathaniel -- live and breathe alongside humans. Where things are so different to the world they know. Well, he could probably adjust and learn to live with it. But Dean...Dean would end up a rogue, a bounty-hunter, and eventually he'd end up dead. Sam's not willing to do that.
But for now, until things get sorted out and they figure out how to return to their world...he'll make the most of where they are, and who they get to spend time with.
That who stretches against him, a low purring sound rising around them at the same time muscles ripple and flow beneath soft, soft skin. Sam hasn't been with many other guys, but even the girls he's been with he doesn't remember being as soft as Nathaniel.
There's no mistaking him for a girl, though, however soft he is, however long his hair. Nathaniel's all male, and close as he is to Sam, it's almost overwhelming. Intoxicating. Sam shifts, and Nathaniel shifts, and behind Sam he can feel Dean getting hard again. It's like a drug, being with Nathaniel. Sam reaches out and strokes his fingers down Nathaniel's chest, leans in to nip at his throat. Nathaniel shudders, growls low in his throat, and that sense of otherworldliness rises up again, makes the air seem supercharged, almost alive around them.
"You should fuck him again," Dean mutters into his ear, and Sam nods absently, fingers teasing up and down Nathaniel's chest. He fits his hand around Nathaniel's throat and squeezes gently, feels the tremors moving through Nathaniel.
"That what you want, Nathaniel? Want me to fuck you again?" He nips at Nathaniel's ear, then bites harder before sucking on the tip. Nathaniel growls again, the sound ragged and breathless. "Well?"
"Y-yes," he manages, tilting his head back, a low whimper tinging the words. "Please. God, please--"
Sam pushes against Nathaniel until he's rolled onto his back, body sprawled loose and inviting, and so vulnerable. Behind him Dean's breathing fast and hard, breath hot against Sam's skin where he's mouthing up and down Sam's back. It makes goosebumps rise and fall in the wake of moist warmth and cooler air and Sam shivers reflexively. He leans in and bites at Nathaniel's nipples, sucking on each one in turn until they're swollen and red; tight, hard points begging soundlessly for more.
"Hold him," he says to Dean, the words short and clipped. It's hard to think, this aroused, and every time Sam looks at Nathaniel, thinks of sinking into him, the arousal spikes higher. The low, needy moans Nathaniel makes when Dean moves above him, pining his wrists to the bed make Sam's belly twist with want.
"Cocksucker," Dean mumbles softly, looking down at Nathaniel. "Perfect mouth for it--" The words stop abruptly, end in a goan when Nathaniel closes his mouth over Dean's dick. It's an awkward angle for giving head, and Sam's neck aches in sympathy, but Nathaniel gives it his best shot, licking and sucking enthusiastically. Sam watches, losing himself in the sight of Dean's cock disappearing and reappearing, of Nathaniel's mouth stretched and open, tongue obscenely pink against pale flesh.
Nathaniel moans against Dean when Sam pushes his thighs open, pushes his legs up. Two fingers sink in easily; Nathaniel's still wet and open from earlier, when Sam and Dean both fucked him. It's so weirdly hot Sam's brain shorts out for a minute. He comes back to himself when Nathaniel twists impatiently, whispers of sound trickling out and around them. "Please," and "more", and Sam wants nothing more than to give him what he wants.
He rolls the condom on with shaking hands; in spite of Nathaniel's insistence they don't need them -- lycanthrops don't get, or pass, STDs or HIV or anything else -- it's too much an ingrained practice. Sam does wonder how it would feel, sliding into Nathaniel, into tight, slick heat, with nothing between them. He shudders at the thought, then pushes in hard, fast, feeling Nathaniel tense up and relax beneath him. Dean breathes out rough, a choked moan that makes Sam lean forward to take his mouth in a bruising kiss. Dean bites at his lips, at his tongue, and Sam snaps his hips forward hard into Nathaniel. Punishing him for Dean's transgressions?
Rational thought is gone then, because Nathaniel tightens around him, pulls him in close. He can't reach for Sam, not while Dean's holding him down, but Dean lets go when he comes, shouting his pleasure against Sam's mouth, body shaking through each spasm. Nathaniel can't swallow it all, not fast enough, and he looks debauched when Sam looks down at him, mouth red and swollen, lips slick and smeared with come. Dean backs off, slides down against Nathaniel, licks and kisses his mouth clean, shifts over to bite at Nathaniel's throat.
Each bite makes Nathanial whimper, makes him cry out softly and arch up against Sam. He's wrapped his legs up around Sam's waist, but that's too soft, too easy; Sam moves backward until he can hook his hands under Nathaniel's knees and push again, pushing his legs up and back, opening him up.
Every stroke inward makes Sam's head spin with pleasure. It feels redhot and thick, moving through his body, and perversely he wants to slow it down, hold onto it, stretch the feeling out for as long as possible. There's a moment when he pulls out, holds himself just against Nathaniel, his dick inside enough so he can see how stretched Nathaniel is, dark pink ring of muscle opening for him, opening to take him. Nathaniel whines low in his throat, pushing upward, trying to drive Sam in or impale himself, anything to increase the sensation. Sam resists, groans when Dean reaches out and strokes one finger down his dick, then slams back into Nathaniel's willing body.
Two strokes, three, a fourth, and it's too much. Too much pleasure, too much want, too much everything. Sam comes, body shaking apart and coming together again, falling deeper into the cradle of Nathaniel's body with each spasm. Beneath him Nathaniel shakes in time with him, Dean's hand on Nathaniel's dick now, fast and hard strokes, like they know Nathaniel likes. He grips Sam tight as he comes, pulling him and holding him until it hurts, it's too much, Sam can't take it but never wants it to end.
Afterward, it's almost painful to pull out. He's overly sensitive, body so well-used it'll be interesting to walk later. There's a vague thought in Sam's mind that Nathaniel probably *won't* be walking much later, but he can't bring himself to feel too repentant about it. Probably because as he's laying there, trying to remember how to breathe and move, Nathaniel's snuggling up against him, leaning into him. Definitely purring, the sound low and tickling where Nathaniel's breath brushes over Sam's skin. On the other side of him -- and how funny is it they've fallen into the exact same position they were in earlier? -- Dean shifts, throwing one arm across Sam's waist.
"You okay, Nate?" Dean asks, the words low and a little rough, like Dean's already half-asleep. "Didn't hurt you, did we?" Sam smiles, or thinks he does, because Dean likes to make out he's all tough and gung-ho and doesn't care...but that's so far from the truth.
"I'm good," Nathaniel says, the words a quiet slur. "Better than good. You guys--" He stops then, and Sam sighs, because yeah. He knows. He hears what Nathaniel isn't saying and won't say, and yeah. He gets it. "Get some sleep," Nathaniel continues, soft and slow. "It's safe here. We'll work on--stuff, later."
Stuff. How to get home, how to leave this. How to. Sam sighs again, closes his eyes. Loses himself in Nathaniel's warmth and Dean's heartbeat, and lets all his worries go. Time enough to worry, later.
~fin~